


Burning up upon reentry

by turbulentmediator



Series: Can we go slow so I don't burn? [1]
Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff and Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, M/M, Potentially triggering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-25 01:43:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20024491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/turbulentmediator/pseuds/turbulentmediator
Summary: Johnny makes a move but Spidey freaks out





	Burning up upon reentry

**Author's Note:**

> I imagined them as 16 for this so yeah. They've been superheroes for a year and Johnny knows Spidey's identity.

He likes Johnny, likes the kiss. It's sweet, gentle, chaste. Then Johnny deepens the kiss and Peter can feel a tongue tracing lightly at his lip and suddenly everything is too wet, too warm, too awkward and _Peter's eyes are open_ and everything is _too much._ Johnny pulls away enough for Peter to see his glazed smile and hooded lashes, a thin string of saliva connecting their mouths, damning evidence of their matrimony. He smiles softly, says breathily "You taste like apples," _you always taste like apples_ and leans in for a kiss - _moaning in your ear - the cold tile of a school bathroom - comfort overridden by disgust, shame, confusion, why, why, why?_

Peter's breathing is heavy, stricken, as he weakly pushes against Johnny's chest to keep him off, away, silently begging him to just _get off._

"Hey is something wrong?" Johnny's voice is concerned, worried, and it's so- _so similar,_ that it makes the differentiating note of Johnny's insecurity so relieving to hear. 

Peter starts crying. 

Johnny doesn't know what to do. 

Johnny scrambles off of him and Peter cries harder, breaths coming in short gasps, stolen between heaving sobs. 

Does he help him? Does he try to talk to him, apologise for making Peter cry, or is he supposed to back off so he doesn't make it worse? 

"I don't want to, don't want to, don't want to, don't want to, no no no no no no no no no _no!"_ Peter inhales sharply, and Johnny realises belatedly that _Peter isn't talking to him._

And suddenly so many things made sense. 

MJ's concern that Peter had been missing school for non-Spidey reasons, Aunt May's delight that he had managed to get Peter out of his depressed funk, Peter's reluctance to go to places requiring showing of skin which he had always attributed to him wearing his Spidey outfit under his clothes, the harsh determination, almost _desperation_ Spidey exhibited when tracking down the kidnappers, _his mysterious disappearance when confronted with the children he had rescued, but had been too late to save_ \- 

Johnny laid a gentle hand on Peter's shoulder, softly encouraging him with a light squeeze. "Hey, Peter, look at me. You're okay, okay? You're okay."

Peter looked up, a sad frown lining his lips, sobs subsided but tears still threatening to spill. 

"Peter I - I'm not going to do anything you don't want to do okay? You're the boss, and I, your obedient servant." Johnny smiled widely, he had read somewhere that while frowning showed compassion and sympathy, it also made people feel pathetic and ashamed, and Peter did not like to be pitied. 

"So what do you want?" 

"I don't - I don't want -" Tongue-tied, frustrated and inundated with feelings of hopelessness, Peter looked down, fidgeting helplessly as he twisted his fingers into pretzels. 

"How's about a hug?" Johnny offered. Peter nodded, not bothering to look up but holding out his arms expectantly. 

Johnny let Peter wrap his arms around him first before reciprocating, being careful to let Peter initiate the contact so he wouldn't feel trapped by Johnny's tight grasp. By the light of the sun above him, he would never let anyone hurt his best friend again. Peter sniffled pathetically against Johnny's shoulder, before devolving again into intense crying, sans-hyperventilation. For a moment Johnny was scared he had done something wrong, but then realised that Peter wasn't panicking anymore, but was using crying as an emotional resolution to the distress he was experiencing. 

Johnny's heart ached for him. 

For a long time Peter clutched him desperately. His tears eventually subsided but still he remained, listening intently to the steady beating of Johnny's heart. He didn't want to go. He wanted to stay in this moment forever, where the heavy pounding of Johnny's heart blocked out all other noise, other thoughts, lulling him to sleep but never quite allowing him to reach it, not unlike a truncus graph and _oh fuck I have a math SAC tomorrow that I didn't study for._

"What's wrong?" Johnny asked, having felt Peter stiffen up. 

"I have a stupid SAC I didn't study for tomorrow."

"I think I can get you out of class." 

"Johnny, if I don't take the SAC without a proper excuse I _fail._ " 

"I think I can find you a proper excuse. How's three broken ribs sound?" 

" _Johnny,"_ Peter punched Johnny's arm playfully "Be serious," he requested, although his smile betrayed his mirth.

"Okay, I'm being serious. Let me talk to your teacher 'an I can get you outta there." 

Peter frowned. "What're you gonna tell 'er?" 

"That you can't come to class because I need your help with investigating a drug ring, 'cos you overheard them making their plans while you were taking pics of Spidey." 

"That's the best you could come up with? Ridiculous! She's never going to believe it." 

"Yeah you're too much of a nerd to be associated with anything stronger than panadol." 

"No I meant she wouldn't believe Spidey let em get away." 

"Are you kidding me that's the most believable part of my story." 

"Hey!" 

"Y'know the alternative could be speakin' to your school counselor, I'm sure they'd understand." 

Peter tensed. "I don't want to." He bit out. 

"Why not? If its because you're nervous or anxious, I wouldn't mind coming along with you for moral support. Or your Aunt could go with you, or she could go without you, or we could send a message or a _messenger,_ or… a messenger _pigeon?_ or -"

Peter extended a hand in front of him, "Johnny stop. You're rambling." Johnny dropped his gaze to the floor, and Peter followed suit. "Look, I appreciate your offer and maybe one day… but I kind of don't want to. It's not that big a deal anyway." 

"Are you seeing anyone?" 

"What?" 

"I mean like a psychologist." Peter doesn't reply, so Johnny presses. "Does you Aunt know?" 

"Yes - I, no, kind of." 

"What do you mean? If she knew she would have done something to support you."

"She doesn't know… like, _to what extent._ And it happened years ago. It didn't - it didn't use to - it didn't use to affect me so much." 

"Yeah," _it's called repression, disassociation, compartmentalisation._

"So what are you gonna do?" 

"I don't know. What's wrong with what I'm doing now?" 

"Nothing, if it's working for you. I support you Peter. You can talk to me about whatever." Johnny promised. 

"Yeah but -" Peter struggled with how to phrase his feelings on the matter, finally settling on "y'know?" And Johnny did know. He knew he was biased, ignorant, and Peter needed someone educated in the field who could help him sort out his feelings, gain closure and process his experience so that he could leave it behind where it couldn't viciously force itself into Peter's mind during every waking moment, his own personal horror film playing on the backs of his eyelids. 

"Peter, you need professional help. Honestly, I think everyone does. I don't think I've ever met someone with perfect mental health. Pretty sure Sue's got OCD what with the way we had to wait 2 hours to go out to a restaurant because she spotted a single smudge of dirt on the counter and had to bleach the whole kitchen." 

"You're exaggerating." 

"Am I?" 

"Yes, I was _there_ Johnny. _And I have eyes._ There was chocolate syrup on the ceiling! Reed had to stretch up there with a sponge and a towel!" 

"You don't know that we're talking about the same thing." 

"Was the 'single smudge of dirt' your poorly drawn chocolate syrup caricature of Sebastian Stan?" 

Johnny wisely chose to say nothing. 

"Yeah that's what I thought." 

Johnny feigned indignation, practically screeching "it was not poorly drawn! It was _fine artistry!_ And jokes on you 'cause I don't even know what carry-whatsit means!" Peter laughed at the shrillness of Johnny's voice, and the reaction his provocation had elicited. 

And if pretending he didn't know what a somewhat "big" word meant getting to see Peter smile, getting to hear him laugh, then Johnny was perfectly content to make an ass out of himself every day. He would gladly take Peter at his best, but he would also take Peter at his worst and help put him back together. Because above anything else, Peter was his best friend, the only person bright and warm enough to brave Johnny's fire. 

And Johnny loved him for that. 


End file.
